


Bullets, Gunpowder, and Stolen Kisses

by HoltzmannsDimples



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I may change rating shhh, Minor Character Death, No Games AU, Romance, War, i am bad at tagging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 11:31:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1647080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoltzmannsDimples/pseuds/HoltzmannsDimples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"In front of me the small line moves forward as a boy, dark seam hair and a hungry look in his eyes, steps away from the table they've set up in the Justice Building. The banner, which I'm barely able to see over the merchant's head in front of me, proudly displays the large, bold letters spelling out 'District 13 recruitment center'."</p><p>After a war breaks out in Panem, Katniss Everdeen enlists in the Rebel army to provide for her family. Turns out Peeta Mellark, the boy who had saved her life, is on his way to war too. A promise, two bracelets, and three days may change their chances of getting out of the fight alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Enlisting

I hold the aged paper in my hand with an iron grip, sweating in the early summer heat so much I worry about smearing the ink. I regret wearing my father's hunting jacket, but refuse to take it off. It's the closest I can get to being comforting by him, and I need it right now more than ever.

In front of me the small line moves forward as a boy, dark seam hair and a hungry look in his eyes, steps away from the table they've set up in the Justice Building. The banner, which I'm barely able to see over the merchant's head in front of me, proudly displays the large, bold letters spelling out 'District 13 recruitment center'.

My stomach churns violently as the line moves again. Another boy, this time there is tears in his eyes as he hugs his mother and walks into the small group forming off to the side.

There's another table too, another line I had to pry my mother and sister out of. Medical Personnel needed, they announced. Prim ran out the door, tears in her eyes as she begged me to let her help. I refused.

District 13 just recently became a presence in 12, our district was mostly left alone after the war started. Nobody here really knows what happened, just that the Capitol found a few spies from 13 and bombed the thought to be long gone district. It started the war, the first attack in a line of fatal battles we've seen reported on the television.

13's soldiers came marching last month, dirty from war with armored cars following them. The peacekeepers fought, leading to the ringing of gunfire in town and 7 new graves in the cemetery. They turned on the fence to "protect us", leaving me without a source for food for my family and no trading.

That is why, after they announced each enlisted soldier's family would be cared for in exchange for the soldier's service, me and almost every other seam kid over the age of 16 ran down to the Justice Hall, only needing ourselves and proof of age.

Mom cried her eyes out when I asked for my birth certificate, handing it over after crushing me in a hug. Prim sobbed, hugging her ugly, mean cat Buttercup and begging me not to go.

I walked out with a stoic expression and a breaking heart. But fighting for my life on a battlefield miles away from here is still better than watching my little sister waste away.

The line moves forward again, and again. If they are not my age, they're 20-somethings with babies and young wives crying that echo around the large room. I see Prim and Mom off to the side, watching me careful with watery eyes as I move forward again. Two more, then it's my turn to sign myself over to District 13.

I barely can process this fact though, because the boy who walks away this time has blonde curls atop his head. Ocean blue eyes as deep as the real thing. Stocky building from working in the bakery his entire life, and a little taller than me. A round merchant face with the hint of a strong jaw line underneath.

Peeta Mellark.

Burnt bread, dandelions, a large bruise, and Prim's smile that day flash into my vision. Peeta Mellark saved my life. I've never thanked him for the bread that kept my mother, Prim, and me alive until the woods became my life line.

My knees are weak as I step forward, then realize I'm looking down at a table full of papers. Stacked to one side are signed documents, on the other the papers are not touched.

The man, dressed in a military uniform with more medals then I can count pinned to it and greying hair, clears his throat, "Miss, this is not the table for you."

My heart sinks, "B-But... Why?"

He sighs, " War is tough. You'll get shot at, dirty, you may even die. I suggest you rethink this."

I scowl at him, "I want to enlist." the paper in my hand feels heavy as I hand him it, the man reads it over. Shaking his head in unhappiness as he pulls out a fresh paper for me to sign.

"Any medical problems?" He asks.

"Not any I know of." I reply

"Have you been trained in any combat and/or weapon handling?"

"...No."

"Please state your height."

I feel my face burn as I tell him, "I don't know it."

He rolls his eyes and points to the long ruler on the side of his desk. "Stand up against it. Feet flat and back straight." I do and he laughs, "5 feet 8 inches. Barely made it."

I let out the breath I was holding as my hand clumsily signs the dotted line as the man reads out from a script, "The 13th District and/or any of its affiliates are not responsible for any injury, mental trama, or death sustained by the person signing this contract. In return for the service provided toward the war effort, the person's household will receive 800 dollars in payment each month. This may vary depending on which district the household is in to insure each family member is cared for each month."

I almost cry, but that would really make me seem unfit for this job.

"Do you understand and agree to these terms?" He asks, I nod silently.

"Welcome to your new home, Soldier Everdeen." He says in a congratulatory tone, "You have ten minutes for goodbyes and then go check in for your physical." He hands me a small badge with my name and a long number below it.

I clip it onto my shirt with shaky hands, walking quickly over to Prim and mom. They hug me, cry and tremble and I do to. Forgetting about the room I let myself go. This could be the last time I ever see them. I shake myself away from the tears and kneel down to Prim's level, her blue eyes shine with un-shed tears.

"You need to listen to me, OK?" She nods, "You and mom will be fine, they'll give you more money then I'd ever trade enough for. You have Lady, remember her?" Prim laughs and nods again, "You can sell cheese and goat milk. Maybe you can get another one, too."

She looks happy for a moment, "We can get a boy."

I smile and smooth back her hair, "That's a great idea..." My throat is rough from holding back tears as I say, "I'll come back, I promise."

"Promise?" Prim questions.

"Promise." I confirm, standing to look my mother in the eye. I think of Dad dying, her leaving us. What if I died? "Mom you need to be there for Prim, she needs you now." I tell her strictly, "Please, for me?"

"I won't leave, I'm sorry for doing that to you-" I cut her off with a hug, she's silenced for a minute and I feel her tears hit my shoulder as she says, "He would of been so, so proud of you."

I choke back a sob at the words, breaking away to see our time is up. I look sadly to the check in on the opposite side of the room. I quietly say, "I love you both."

Prim calls to me as I start walking, "I love you Katniss!"  
Mom follows her, "I love you, be safe."

I tell her I'll be fine, mentally adding I'll be as fine as somebody could be in a war zone. The voices of my mother and sister draw attention, and when I turn back to the sign in I stare directly in the eyes of Peeta Mellark. Or, now I guess, Soldier Mellark.


	2. Welcome to the training center, recruit.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy.

"Healthy, a little under fed, but healthy." The woman, dressed in matching grey pants and a shirt, informs me. She told me her name before the exam started, somewhere between my name being called and the flurry of questions she asked.

She smiles at me, "You know we don't get many girls enlisting, most of them offered to volunteered to cook, clean, you know... more feminine work." She says the last words with a hint of disgust, then she surprises me, "Thank you, soldier."

"Why?" I question, not returning the smile she gives me.

She laughs, "You're putting your life on the line, why wouldn't I thank you?"

I leave the subject at that, still nervous of what lies ahead of me. The peacekeepers in 12 that didn't die fighting 13's troops fled, would I end up fighting them? Darius? The red-haired one that tried to trade with me for kisses at the Hob.

I certainly wouldn't be able to kill him. How could I kill anyone?

Whatever-her-name-is sends me out of the cramped back room with a pat on the back and well wishes. I try not to meet Peeta's eyes as I walk toward the door where all the other soldiers, it's weird to call them that as most look like kids, are lining up.

The line I was waiting in just over an hour ago is gone, the table folded up for the rest of the day, waiting until tomorrow. More people like me will come then.

But Peeta, why did he come?

"Catnip?" I freeze, I can't breath as the shock settles in. I try to focus on anything but the guy running toward me. The fly buzzing around the boy next to me's head. Is the ceiling leaking?

"What... Why are you here?!" Gale yells, face red with anger. "Catnip you need to go home, I don't know why you came to stop me but-"

"Gale-"

"-you can't. I'm doing-"

"I'm not-"

"-this for all of us."

I sigh, finally able to speak without him shouting over me, drawing attention from everyone, "Gale, I'm not here to stop you." I almost whisper, trying to get it the point across to him.

For the first time since he saw me, Gale notices. Notices how I'm lined up ready to walk out the door, the plastic badge pinned to my jacket that matches his, a green strip of fabric that whatever-her-name tied to my upper arm.

His anger is gone in an instant, replaced by sadness I rarely ever see Gale show. "Katniss, no..." He seems at a lost. How hadn't I guess he'd sign up? Of course Gale would, but why would he think I wouldn't?

A tall, thin middle-aged man with dark skin walks toward us, a gun strapped the side of his grey, bulky uniform. He glances at our badges before asking, "Soldier Hawthorne may I ask why you are yelling at soldier Everdeen?"

"She can't be here, you need to send her home." Gale demands, standing straight to try to intimidate the man. I almost laugh when he's still 6 inches shorter than the man.

The man, who's uniform has a small cloth patch sown on it reading 'Boggs' ignores Gale. "Watch yourself Hawthorne, you got a lot to learn about manners." He continues with a smirk, "Haymitch is gonna have a lot of fun with you in training."

"Training?" I repeat.

"Yes," Boggs looks at me, as if deciding my worth before explaining to all the people lined up, "This unit will be transported to District 10. You'll all be there for a month before heading out to 8."

"A month doesn't seem like enough time to learn everything." Gale comments under his breath.

"Well you better get learning than." Boggs points to the exam room door before adding, "And get yourself checked out, Hawthorne."

~x~x~x~x~x~x~

The musky scent of sweat clings to the air inside of the armored van Boggs orders us all into. Small, barred windows let the total of 10 recruits in our van see outside. Allowing us to see District 12 slowly fading away as the vehicle bounces along the rocky road leading out of our home district.

Gale's not in this car, I'm thankful for that. But luck wasn't on my side completely as I look over and see Peeta Mellark smiling next to me.

I look down at my boots, ignoring the quiet chatter of the other boys in our car went he asks, "Aren't you a little hot in that jacket?"

I pull the aged leather he's talking about closer to myself, "No."

Peeta lets it slide, wiping his hands on the light blue jeans he has on. Training my eyes on the spider web forming in the corner of the stuffy, cramped car, I manage to ignore everyone until my eyes drop closed as the vehicle rocks me to sleep.

~x~x~x~x~x~x~

"Up and At 'em!" Boggs' voice booms through my sleepy haze, making my eyes shoot open and see the boys across from me standing up from their little bench. Oh yeah, we're in the van. Suddenly I'm very aware of my cheek pressing up and against something, more like a someone.

"Sorry!" I squeak, shooting up from my seat. Peeta laughs at my heated face. I ignore the prick of warm spreading through my belly at his amused smile. He shrugs, standing and jumping down from the back of the van, turning around to offer his hand to help me down.

I don't take it, I've jumped from higher up than this.

"Listen up!" A man, dirty blonde and grey mop of hair on his head and the hasn't shaved for a week look going on, calls out too loudly, "Welcome to the training center."

He looks us all up and down, grey eyes like mine sizing up us all like are scared children. Peeta's no longer at my side, lost in the group of people around me. The vans, all five that brought District 12's recruits here, are lined up in a neat line. We all stand still, waiting for his next words.

"Now, usually a person would go through a little more formal training before fighting." He keeps pacing, "But, as it stands, we need as many people out there on the battlefield as possible. So under the orders of President Coin, I'm suppose to get you in and out of here as fast as possible. Understand? That means you'll need focus."

He stops suddenly, facing all of us with a merciless stare. I hold my head higher, trying to seem as soldier like as possible. I need to be here. I need to save my family.

He clears his throat before saying, "Welcome home, don't get too comfortable."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly filler for the next, getting us to point a to b. Next we'll be see MORE Peeta and Katniss. So get ready.


	3. Settling In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait.

The barracks for our group are at the end of a row of large, metal buildings that look like half tubes stuck in the muddy ground. Inside there are two rows of bunk beds on the wood floors. Haymitch had informed us that these things, quickly built and quiet large, house 20 soldiers each. District 12 has 19 recruits, so we all fit in one together.

"You'll be Squad 74," he tells us, "look out for each other."

Gale clears his throat quickly, "What about Katniss?" His eyes meet mine over the heads of the boys between us, "She can't sleep in there with us."

Haymitch chuckles, "As a squad all of you will be eating, training, bathing, and sleeping together." I feel the color drain from my face as he continues,"Surely you all can handle yourselves and treat the girl as a fellow soldier instead of something to look at, correct?"

They all nod.

We're shuffled in the barracks. Haymitch tells us to claim our beds quickly and await his return. "I'll be back in a half hour to get you all to the mess hall, unpack your things."

I avoid Gale while picking a bed all the way in the back. It takes some time to get there with everyone walking around. Someone has already claimed the bottom one, their bag placed in the middle of the bare mattress, so I peek at the top one before gently tossing my things up there.

I've got one foot on the latter when someone appears behind me. It's Peeta, He's holding a pad of paper and some pencils. I look over him for a moment, realizing he's changed already into a uniform. Grey tee-shirt and black and grey camo cargo pants.

"Hi bunk buddy." He blushes at the words that come out of his mouth, "Uh, there are uniforms at the bathroom outside." I remember the concrete building in-between our barracks are the next one, reminding myself to go there before Haymitch arrives.

I nod in understanding before climbing up onto the upper bed. Surprisingly there's more head room then I expected. I sit up and my head barely brushes the roof as I open my bag. I didn't bring much, just underwear, black shorts, and two of my dad's old tee shirts to sleep in.

Looking around I realize I don't know where to put my stuff.

Peeta's blue eyes peek at me over the side, I can't see his mouth but I can tell he's smiling. "Down here there's a chest, I think it's for our stuff."

Oh, shared storage. I look down at my belongings and blush. Suck it up Katniss, it's just clothes.

Coming down, I see Peeta's placing his stuff in the chest at the foot of the bed. The large hollow inside of the wooden chest is split down the middle. I shove my bag in the side that Peeta isn't using. I'll work that out later.

Shrugging off my father's jacket, I realize how much better it feels without it on. The boiling temperatures aren't as bad. I place it gently on my bed before heading toward the bathrooms.

~x~x~x~x~x~  
The bathroom is cramped, a concrete room with stalls, sinks, and urinals on one side and a curtain covered doorway leading to the shower stalls. After finishing my business in the first room I wander over to the showers. A bin holds uniforms. I take the smallest one and find an open stall.

The shower is basic, a nozzle hanging from the ceiling, controls on the wall, and a curtain cutting it off from view. Not wasting time, I undress and turn the water on, gasping in shock as a freezing stream of water jets out from the ceiling.

It doesn't heat up after a minute or two, so I get to work. First scrubbing the sweat and dirt of today off then washing my hair with soap from the wall dispenser. I'm glad for a moment that back at home in the Seam I had learned to shower fast.

Thinking of my home in past tense makes my throat feel dry, my chest ache and my eyes water. Don't focus on that, I tell myself, shutting down the shower before tugging on my clothes.

Stepping out into the first area of the bathroom, I see the crowd has noticeably dwindled since before my shower. At the sink I braid my wet hair loosely, picking up my old clothes before walking back to our squad's barracks. I've just opened the door when I feel eyes on me.

Haymitch stands in the middle of the aisle down the middle, all the others are there too, lined up in neat rows on each side. They're all looking at me, and I'm guessing Haymitch has just been speaking.

"Well looks like sweetheart finally decided to join us." Haymitch earns a few laughs with this.

I walk down to my bunk with my head down, putting my clothes on my bed before standing next to Peeta in the empty gap obviously meant for me. I try not to look at Peeta as he scans the side of my face.

"Since the whole gangs here now, " Haymitch glares at me, "We can go get some dinner."

A series of happy chatter erupts in the room but Haymitch shushes them, "But not before I review you on who you have to listen to. Boggs, the man who brought you all here, is our very own Master Sergeant. You'll address him as Sergeant Boggs, understand?"

Everyone nods.

"And when speaking to me you will address me as Sergeant Abernathy." We all nod again, but someone asks a question this time.

He's short and thin, Seam looks that make it seem like we're related, "Sergeant Abernathy, what's our title?"

Haymitch laughs, "Kid you all are privates." He points to people and says, "You're Private Hemson, that's Private Hawthorne, Private Kindle, Private Mellark, and," His finger lands on me, "Private late-to-the-first-meeting."

I hold my comments back as everyone, but Peeta, laughs. Haymitch groans as a loud bell rings loudly outside, "Come on, dinner is served."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review, it makes me write faster. :)


	4. First Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it!

The mess hall isn't too far of a walk away. A few barracks down and a similar, large building is nestled in a cluster of trees, People are scattered throughout the large muddy field that has small patches of flatten grass littering the open area. District 10, unlike 12, is flat and almost treeless. Off in the very far distance I see little brown dots moving around. Cows, of course.

Unsurprisingly, the cafeteria is serving beef stew. Haymitch lines us up and leads us through the process. Grab tray, get dinner, sit down. Easy enough. Well easy for most. I barely miss the boy behind me spilling his bowl on the ground after tripping.

The man serving the stew swings his ladle at him, "You better get to cleaning that up now!"

"Where do we sit?" Peeta asks, popping up next to me.

Haymitch raises the hand not gripping his tray I gestures toward the rows of metal tables in front of us, "Anywhere but next to me."

The 12 recruits slowly flood into the tables. Lots of people are already eating, chatting, or like the two boys in the far right throwing a football to each other, goofing off. Most of 12's groups find themselves drawn toward the people obviously from other districts. I can't blame them, districts don't interact at all under the Capitol.

Would that be different under District 13? I can't even think of a place other than 12.

With that on my mind, I find myself sitting in a cluster of Seam kids. "Hi Katniss." Gale greets me, his eyes avoiding mine as he butters the small piece of bread on his tray.

Everyone's quietly eating. The stew, while not the best, is thick and filling. I frown when halfway through the bowl I can't eat anymore. I look around the table and see I'm not the only one.

I nearly fall backwards when Peeta, dressed in same outfit as everyone and seems to be the only one pulling it off, plops down next to me. "Hey, what's up?"

"Uh..." I look away from his bright smile and continue, "nothing."

"Same." He replies. There's a long pause but he nudges my side and says happily, "This is nothing compared to your squirrels. My dad would always make the best stew with it." He points to my untouched bread, "And that? That's not bread... That's a rock." He jokes and earns a few laughs from nearby.

Not Gale, I see him from the corner of my eye glaring daggers at Peeta.

~x~x~x~x~x~

"What time is it?" I ask Peeta as we walk back, the sun's setting right now, bathing the earlier blue sky with vivid pink, red, and orange colors that blend like they're melting into each other. Our squad, however it's weird to think of us as a squad, walks slowly back to our barracks. We all match, like merchant mothers would dress their children for special occasions.

"7:30-ish I'm guessing." Peeta replies before a small, barely there smile creeps its way to his face. I try not a stare at the dimples it uncovers as he asks, "Isn't it beautiful?"

Nodding, I kick a rock with the toe of my military issued boots. I look up at him, watching as Peeta's face takes on an expression of complete concentration.

That night, after everyone's retired to their bunks, including me, I lay on my back staring at the ceiling. I'd taken the time to change into something from home for bed. A faded red shirt that belonged to my father and black shorts I use to wear hunting in the hot summer months.

Along with the hushed chatter of surrounding people, I can hear Peeta sketching below me. I focus on it, the dragging of the pencil tip against rough paper. As a merchant he could probably afford the thick, sturdy paper used for drawing. A sigh followed by an eraser scratching away his mistake, Peeta blowing away the shavings left behind. It lulls me to a near sleep state.

"Lights out!"

The yell is follows by every light in the big room shutting off, plunging it into darkness. I hear Peeta curse quietly, along with half the room. "We have bed times?" The boy right next to me asks loudly, earning a laugh from the room.

~x~x~x~x~x~

A shrill, loud, beeping noise wakes me up, along with everyone else. I feel the mattress beneath me get bumped followed by a quiet "ow" from Peeta.

"You okay?" I ask, leaning over the side to see him.

"Fine." He smiles, one hand pressed against the blonde curls on top of his head. The doors of our barracks open swiftly, letting me see it's still relatively dark outside. I climb down, standing at the end of the bunks and Peeta stands next to me. Everyone lines up, watching as Haymitch walks slowly down the middle aisle.

"Good morning 74, I hope you've all slept well." He clears his throat, "Because today, like every single one the next few weeks, will start now. At 5 am, with training. I hope you can all handle it." He turns around, going toward the doors now, "Well, lets not waste anytime. Get dressed and report outside as soon as possible."

As soon as the heavy door closes behind him the room erupts in chaos. Everyone scrambles for their uniform. Peeta holds our chest open for me, "Thanks." I mumble, grabbing it and then realizing everyone's changing in here.

A boy whistles, his pants half way on as he jokes with his bunk mate.

I grumble, fighting the blush from my face as my hands land on the waistband of my shorts. It's not like I'm going to be completely naked, right? Ignoring the stares I pull them down my legs swiftly. Another whistle. I want to punch him. I try not to focus as I start to pull my shirt off.

"Hey man, that's not fair!" The boy yells, I look up and my view of the room is blocked. By a large white sheet. Peeta's holding it up, his blonde hair just peeking out from the top.

"Shut up." He yells back, "She doesn't need perverts like you looking at her." Peeta's voice is angry as he says this, but changes to kind with a hint of nervousness as he tells me, "Just uh, tell me when you're done, k?"

"Sure." I say before adding at the last moment, "Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review please? :3


	5. Bonding Time

I'm not sure how it happens, how the universe shoves me and the baker's son into a friendship, but it does. During the first morning of training we're paired up to run five laps around the entire compound. After breakfast the squad's ordered to run an obstacle course of spikes, car tires, and climbing walls. I should have known really, when Peeta reached his hand down to pull me up the tallest wall, that we'd somehow formed something.

But it takes me until our second week in training to recognize him as a friend. This is not me. Katniss Everdeen doesn't have friends. She has a sister, hunting partner, customers but not friends.

It's late in the evening, lights off for at least an hour, when hear him speak.

"Do you miss it? 12?" He whispers, as if he knows I'm awake. I guess he does, considering the countless times I'm tossed and turned above him.

"Yeah," I don't even think about it, "I miss my sister."

He sighs, "Same. I mean, my brothers. They were going to enlist too, but Bran's got a son and his wife is pregnant and Rye's getting married next month." Peeta pauses for a moment before adding, "Dad's got to have someone there to carry the baker, too, if I-"

"Stop," I bunch the crisp white sheets below me in my fists while grinding my teeth, "Don't talk like that."  
A minute goes by quietly until Peeta asks, "I didn't want you to sign up. My family isn't rich but… I mean, we got by. I asked for half of my payment to be sent to yours." My heart shatters, after saving my family from starving, throwing me that bread and giving me the hope to continue on, Peeta Mellark is still looking out for me.

"You shouldn't have done that." Anger creeps into my tone, until I deflate suddenly. Peeta, the kind hearted merchant I've never even spoken to before this was, is still looking out for me. I release a choked sound and suddenly Peeta's wide blue eyes are looking at me.

"I'm sorry." He says quickly.

Then I notice the tears rolling down my face, soaking into the pillow below my head. It feels so good to cry for once. The thought makes me sob harder. I haven't cried for myself since I got here. I haven't really cried since my father died, and for a limited time then. Everything pours forward, everything from my pass and present. How come I had to end up here?

"Katniss, Katniss please stop crying." Peeta sounds slightly panicked as he continues, "I can handle crying people."  
I laugh, it's loud and nasally but Peeta laughs too. People shush us as we wake up them up. Peeta lies back down, but not before I get a flash of his white teeth in the darkness. Before I can fall asleep, in between consciousness and the sweet blackness of sleep, I mutter to Peeta "Thank you."

I don't catch his response.

~x~x~x~x~x~

"Double time it! Go any slower and your lazy asses will end up in wooden boxes!" Haymitch yells, urging our group forward. Crawl under wires, avoid simulated gunfire, jump sand pit, and climb wall, repeat. I chant the actions in my head as we do them. At week 3, we're finally physically trained enough to move onto firearm training.

A boy falls in front of me, landing on his arm so badly I hear it crack. His pained cry makes me stop and stare down at him. I forget the clock's running out and suddenly Peeta's grabbed my hand and tugs me forward. The feel of his sweaty palm pressed against mine reminds me.

Time is important. If you fail they make you retake all previous training, but more importantly decrease family payments. My arms burn as I pull myself up the wall on last time. Peeta pulls me to my feet on the top, a smile on his face as we both grab the rope hanging to our left and ring the finish bell. Haymitch nods in approval.

"We did it!" Peeta shouts excitedly, "Physical training was harsh; I think Haymitch was trying to kill us."

I laugh, carefully going down the ladder and say, "Careful this afternoon, he may shoot us and tell us to walk it off." My feet drop to the concrete below as watch Peeta descend as I wait for him, "Plus, you know, I don't think anyone in 12 even held a gun before."

"I did," Peeta states proudly once he's safely on the ground next to me, "One of the older peacekeepers showed me and my brothers his pistol when his wife was buying muffins from my dad. Rye almost shot himself in the face."  
A younger Peeta in awe of one of the pistols I've seen attached to peacekeepers hips flashes in my mind and I smile a little and ask, "How old were you?"

"Maybe nine, ten-ish?" Peeta answers as we start to walk to the mess hall, "Anyway he said that Panem would be lucky to have us protecting it when we grew up.” He smiles fondly at the memory, hands in the pockets of his standard issue pants, “Bran was going to enroll in the Peacekeeper academy in 2, mother was so proud of him.”

“What happened?” I ask curiously, hoping not to cross the line.  
Peeta grins, a wide stupid grin that makes me too as he says, “Bran married his high school sweetheart Stephanie, she’s nice. Really quiet though, so is their son.”

“How old is he? I’ve never seen him at bakery when I traded.” I think back as far as I can, never recalling ever seeing or hearing a young child or baby. Prim cried a lot as a baby, only content to be held be held by mom, dad, or me at night.

“He’s two. Steph doesn’t take him around the bakery because…” Peeta’s face falls momentarily but the smile doesn’t quiet reach his eyes when it returns. He doesn't speak anymore.

We’re close to the mess hall when it happens, the loud pops of gunfire that sound far closer than the firing range. I grab onto Peeta instinctively. People around us seem as perplexed as I feel. Peeta’s hands snake around my waist hold me tightly. As the pops continue a shrill scream erupts not too far from where we stand. Peeta tugs me behind him as we see it.

Emerging from one of the rows of barracks is an armored car, but not just any armored car. The Peacekeepers are here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A cliffy?! Horrible, just plain horrible. I promise to write more often though. As we get into the battles and stuff I'll be too excited not to write. I have soooo many plans for this.


	6. Here Comes the Calvary

"Peeta?!" I yell after he's freezes at the site of the pristine white armor of the Capitol's army. There's more than one truck full, six large cars pull into view, Peacekeepers filing out and shooting at anyone close to them. More of the Rebel army falls with every pop."Peeta, we need to move!"

A boy for our squad, I recognize him as one of the young husbands that had to say goodbye to their pregnant wives, runs pass us shouting for me and Peeta to move. I can't breathe as the sickeningly soft sound of a bullet hitting his back is close enough for me and Peeta to hear.

He falls to the ground, but he's still breathing. Both me and Peeta have become frozen in our spots but I shake myself out of the shock. "Peeta come on!" I shout and grab his hand, realizing the only reason we haven't been shot yet is because the man on the ground is still having bullets pound down on him.

The warm, wet droplets I feel on my face and exposed arms aren't rain.

I don't waste my time with talking anymore, pulling Peeta with me behind a nearby barrack. The other soldiers here are moving toward the mess hall. "Why are you all going there?!" I ask harshly, "You'll be sitting ducks!"

"Higher ups ordered it," Some one stops to tell me, "They're holding the Keepers back with machine gun fire."

I nod, knowing I'll have to follow these soldiers. Peeta's finally come back out of his shock and looks at me with wide eyes, "We have to help."

"We can't even fire a gun." I tell him, "What kind of help would we be?"

We spin at the sharp pops, this time on the the west side of the mess hall. The screams that follow are shrill and feminine. Most of the women here work and reside near the make-shift hospital over there.

"They're killing them." Peeta spits.  
I don't reply, instead running along with some more soldiers toward the mess hall, Peeta's hand tightly in my grasp. We're halfway there when I hear Haymitch's voice call us out, "Mellark, Everdeen!"

I almost pass him, wanting to get myself and Peeta to relative safety as quick as possible. "Don't go to the mess hall! Peacekeepers have hovercrafts flying in! They're gonna light it up!"

My knees almost buckle at his warning, Seeing the hundreds of soldiers running toward the hall that didn't hear what Haymitch is saying. I think of Gale, how I haven't seen him in the crowd. He's probably in the mess hall. He's probably going to die.

"Gale!" I call as loudly as I can, "Gale! Gale!"

I continue to push through the crowd as I shout for him, still tugging Peeta along. But he's out of shock, telling everyone he can to turn back, that it's going to blow. We're halfway to the mess hall when Peeta grabs my arms and makes me face him. He starts to talk but sudden, screeching sirens fill the air and warn of impeding doom.

The mess hall is close enough we hear yelling from the hundreds inside, fearful as the push against doors and fight their way out. Only fifty or so get out before a peacekeeper van goes speeding up to the large doors, the white armored man driving it jumping out at the last second. The car slams into the doors, effectively locking everyone inside.

The fearful screams of soldiers calling for help echoes in my ears as I run away toward where I last saw Haymitch, Peeta following close behind.

The bombs start to drop then, the whistle of them falling followed by one of the loudest noises I've ever heard. As they rain down clouds of ash fill the area, making navigating impossible. It's so thick I can barely breathe, coughing and choking while stumbling around blind. Peeta next to me, and I don't dare loosen my hold on wrist.

"Here!" He shouts as I hear a door swing open. Peeta shuts it as soon as we're both inside, keeping the smoke out. Peeta's breathing heavy as am I as the ground shakes with every bomb that rains down. "Sounds like they're targeting the mess hall still." He says grimly, "We should be safe in the barracks, at least for now."

Although it's not ours, the layout of these barracks are exactly the same. Bunk beds, storage chests, a few photos pinned up next to beds. We both sit on the first mattress we see. It squeaks noisily in the relatively silent room. That's when I see the blood.

"Peeta?" I ask as worry fills me, "Why are you bleeding?"

He frowns and shuffles backward on the bed, allowing his left leg room on it. As a hunter I usually see blood daily, but not human blood. Peeta's pant leg is ripped right below the knee, the dark gray fabric drenched in thick, red blood.

"Holy shit." I curse under my breath, staring at the wound before looking back up at Peeta, "Does it hurt?" I ask dumbly.

Peeta laughs, "Not much, I think it's the adrenaline though." He leans back on the metal headboard behind him as he frowns, "Kind of wearing off now, you know?"

I do. Last year, around spring, I'd fallen victim to a wild dog in the woods. Too focused on tracking a doe I'd walked right into its den site. It pounced on me as I was aiming to take the large deer down. After fighting it off and shooting it, I limped all the way back to the fence before the pain became unbearable, but I still walked home. Prim said I passed out as soon as I got there.

Instantly I remember our training from last week, Haymitch had repeated over and over how important first aid was but I didn't think I'd be using it so soon, "Are you cold?" I ask him, kneeling down on the floor next to his leg, after he shakes his head I ask, "Can you move it?"

Peeta lifts his leg up slowly, groaning at the pain it causes. It went straight through, good. At least I don't have to fish a bullet out. He's breathing fine, well at least as fine as he can in this situation. "We..." I cringe as I roll up his pant leg to expose the wound. It's a perfect circle, blood seeping from it and I try to ignore the bile rising in my throat at the sight. "I need to apply pressure."

Grabbing a tee shirt from the nearness chest, I press the cloth as hard as I can onto the wound like Haymitch had shown us. Five minutes of silence later, I realize the bombs have stopped, but Peeta's bleeding hasn't. His breathing is getting slower as I tie the bloody shirt on his lower thigh as a tourniquet. Peeta moans in pain as I tighten it and I crawl up the bed to sit next to him, "Shhhh..." I whisper, worrying that Peacekeepers are looking for survivors, "You're okay, you're okay."

He's sweating, I realize, when he asks, "Promise you won't leave?"

I brush some stray blonde curls out of his eyes and answer, "Promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment please? I really love reading comments and reviews.


	7. Found

He's unconscious by the time the door of the barracks swing open. Two rebel soldiers rush in with their guns raised, "Hands up!" the man on the left shouts, I raise mine in the air and clear my throat.  
"He's been shot." I tell them, nodding my head toward Peeta as he lays in the bed as I sit at the foot of it. While the man who shouted stands still the other soldier drops his weapon and rushes to Peeta's side. He's got a medical kit with him, I watch as the boy with choppy brown hair cleans and addresses Peeta's wound.

"Clear." The soldier at the door speaks into the radio attached to his shirt, "Two found. One seriously injured." He pauses and listens as someone speaks through the other line, "Critical condition. Send transport team ASAP."

The boy helping Peeta looks over at me and asks, "How's your head?" I must look confused cause he points a finger at his own forehead, I follow his action and feel the thick, semi-dry blood sticking to my temple and hair. The color drains from my face but he quickly adds, "Looks like a graze wound, very easy fix."

I look at Peeta's pale, sweaty face and wonder how hard it'll be to fix him.

~x~x~x~x~x~x~

"Sweetheart," Haymitch groans as he enters the tent that's become a makeshift hospital, he looks angry until he sees Peeta lying on the cot I'm sitting next to. My head's got a thick bandage wrapped around it in a bandanna style around my heart. We're both dirty and still a bit bloody, the visual image of defeat. Haymitch steps closer, avoiding the wires and tubes hooked up to patients. He continues in a regretful tone, "Fuck. Thought you kids knew what 'don't go to the mess hall' meant."

Instead of answering I duck my head like a child be punished as Haymitch stares at the top of my head. The tent doesn't help keep out the humid summer air as it blows in through the entrance. The cloth the makes the door flaps in the breeze lazily, the only sound other than the breathing of the wounded in here.

Haymitch snaps his fingers in front of my face, "Get up."

"Why?" I ask defensively.

"Because even though you almost got a bullet in your brain," He frowns at the red tinted bandage above my eye, "It doesn't pause the rebellion, or training." Haymitch chuckles when my mouth drops open, eyes wide in shock that even after we've been bombed. "Coin would have my neck if I stopped producing soldiers. The rest of the squad's already got the basics down."

At his words I stand up immediately, "Is Gale Hawthorne OK?"

Haymitch smirks as he says, "That bastard thinks he's God's gift to the target range."

~x~x~x~x~x~x~

The instructor at the target range flashes me with his sparkling white teeth as soon as I step into his territory, he's dressed in the usual rebel uniform and some badges over is heart, nearly covering his name tag. "I'm Corporal Odair," His bronze hair shines in the sun as he tilts his head like a child, "And may I ask for your lovely name? I haven't seen you around these parts."

Haymitch speaks before me, probably sensing I'm not very happy with Odair's gaze on me, "This is Private Everdeen. She's here for first time training."

Odair widens his grin like a Cheshire cat before wiggle his eyebrows, "I'm quiet famous for handling first timers well." He leans in closely to my ear, enough for me to feel his breath before whispering, "I'm sure you can handle my gun-"

He's shoved away from me, falling on his side in the dry dirt ground. A girl with dark brown hair and red highlights, only four or five years older than me, places her muddy boot on his exposed side as if keep him from standing up. "Finn stop trying to charm the newbie's pants off, you'll scare her." She snickers, her eyes scrutinize me as I stand awkwardly next to Haymitch. The older girl sighs dramatically and retracts her foot from Odair's side. "Too bad I got five's new recruits, you'll be stuck with big old Finnick here."

Without a goodbye she whips around and jogs back to a group of boys my age, "Who was that?" I ask to nobody in-particular.

"Johanna Mason." Both Odair and Haymitch answer but Odair continues, "Greatest sniper this side of district 8, don't tell her I said that though. She'd kill me."

I quirk an eyebrow in confusion, "But you called her the best in the area? How's that an insult." Haymitch laughs next to me, drawing attention from some nearby soldiers as he pulls a flask out of his pants pocket and takes a drink.

Odair frowns and tells me, "I said this side of district 8." He steps foward toward the range and gestures for me to follow, "First lesson. Never call Jo anything but the best."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter. I've been busy with school and making charms and everything else. Plus, I watched How To Train Your Dragon and really REALLY want to write a crossover. Anyway, thank you for reading.


	8. By Surprise

Finnick, even with all the jokes he makes, actually is a good teacher. He first teaches me how to hold the simple black pistol, puts my legs into the proper stance, and then tells me to pull on the trigger. It's harder than I thought it would be, my palms sweating as I cradle the deadly weapon in both hands, nothing like a bow.

It feels like forever, until the loud bang makes me actually squeak, the gun kicking back toward my face. I drop it into the dirt, blood rushing in my ears. It's embarrassing when Finnick places the pistol back in my hand and tries to hold back his laughter, "After you do it a couple times, it'll be like nothing."

"Sure." I breathe out, "I wasn't scared or anything it just took me-"

"By surprise?" He finishes my sentence, "Don't worry, everyone else here had the same problem." Odair's hair shines as he jerks his head to the left slightly, "That kid nearly pissed himself." I look and see a boy no older than 16 in a line with other boys, their guns trained on the targets set a distance out.

The memory of my father teaching me to shoot his bow hits me like a ton of bricks as Odair continues to help me shoot. But then Odair picks up a forgotten rifle for it's place where it leaned against the makeshift sandbag wall that represents the shooting line. I'm surprised when Corporal's laid back attitude is gone, holding out the long, intimidating weapon to me.

"When you draw a gun, you accept responsibility for anyone you kill with that gun." It feels heavy in my hands, "You're going to need to kill people Everdeen, and you can't think about it." The grey metal is smooth, cold, I've seen peacekeepers walking around with them. "Katniss," He puts a hand on my shoulder, my gaze shifting from the gun in my hands to his green eyes, "They're going to try to kill you."

"I know." It's barely a whisper.

"Every time this things goes off," Odair points to the rifle, not breaking eye contact, "It's music to my ears. Because that means it's one less 'keeper that can kill me, you, any of the other rebel soldiers in this camp, in the districts."

I don't flinch this time after squeezing the trigger.

~x~x~x~x~x~

"Katniss?" Peeta groggily pipes up as soon as I enter the medical tent after training and dinner, "What happened to you?" His eyes are wide with worry as he takes in the bandage on my head. Of course he'd be worried about me.

"You're the one that's bedridden, Mellark." I almost smile when he laughs.

"Mellark? What happened to first names, Everdeen?" Peeta teases.

"I think I've been hanging around the higher ranks a little too much," I go on to tell him about Odair, Johanna, and learning to shoot. I leave out Finnick's speech about guns and killing though, instead pulling my knees to my chest as he tells me about waking up with Haymitch passed out next to him. A woman comes in, dressed a dull grey uniform that's different that most others.

"How are you feeling?" She asks Peeta, changing his IV bag. Must be a nurse, or a doctor.

"Good." Peeta answers, even though he's been wincing for the pass half hour. The woman then leaves to tend to the other patients, Peeta's eyes drifting shut. "Goodnight, Everdeen." He mumbles, falling into a deep sleep before I can reply. That doesn't stop me from whispering back as I get up to go back to our squads barracks,

"Goodnight, Mellark."

~x~x~x~x~

I'm awoken by the sound of a trumpet, nearly cracking my head on the barrack ceiling as I shoot up in my bunk. It's so early that no light leaks in from the crack under the door or the small windows. Birds don't sing yet. What could they possibly thinking playing a very loud, very annoying trumpet at this hour. Me and the others look at each other for answers, not exactly sure on what were suppose to do.

But then the door swings open, heavy footsteps coming into our barracks.

"Welcome to hell!" A loud, bellowing man yells, "From now on you sorry fucks are going to be training under me, Master Sergeant Cato Summers."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, been having a hard time with writers block. Come talk to me on Tumblr at CryingOverMockingjay

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it? I don't have a beta so it may not be to good but I'm looking for one. Anyway, review and bookmark please? It makes me happy :)
> 
> -See you soon


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